Friday, 18 August 2006
When An Elephant is an Onion
No poem for Poetry Thursday. Again.
But I do love Poetry Thursday.
I love Poetry Thursday because it reminds me about poetry's existence at a time when I find myself concentrating more on prose.
Poetry Thursday serves as a good spur. A motivation. An inspiration.
I think Lynn and Elaine are amazing the way they consistently produce great ideas and incentives. Thank you Elaine and Lynn!
Long Live Poetry! Long live Poetry Thursday! Three cheers for Poetry Thursday!
Meanwhile - here is a little something I wrote yesterday on my website. Maybe it will do instead of a poem? Then again, maybe not ...
When An Elephant Is an Onion
When my daughter and I picked up my granddaughter from school today, as usual she was full of chatter and provided a running commentary from the back seat of the car on what was running through her brain. We had her thoughts on who was talking to who now, and why blondes had to stick together and the correct pronunciation of brunette - and if blondes are blondes and brunettes are brunettes, what are black-haired people called? And how she would like to be in the Guinness Book of Records for something like climbing the highest stairs. And did you know that it's impossible to kiss your own elbow? She's tried it and it is impossible. All finished off with a perfect rendition of, 'I'm walking on sunshine ... woo - oo'. The girl leaves me breathless!
Earlier I had helped my daughter take stuff out to the tip. When her partner saw the pile of full, black kleensaks she had put aside ready to throw out, he asked,"What's all that?" To which she replied, "Rubbish," in that firm tone females reserve for males about to query what actually constitutes 'rubbish'. The selection and getting rid of rubbish should only be done by females and only when they are on their own, well away from any perusal by males, or children.
"No recycling? " the man in the sentry box at the Tip queried in a tone specifically engineered to induce guilt. The black-backed gulls looked horrendous and large and ugly. The road was mucky and smelly. The heels of our shoes got covered in sludge and stunk the car out. My daughter said she saw some pukekos (*see a picture of one of these birds at the top of this blog.) And we both saw a black cat slinking off over a rubbish mountain. One happy cat with all those pickings and rats as well.
Today at the pre-school where I work, I was naming objects for the children. One boy had three game animals I was helping him to name. "Giraffe," I said. Then, "Tiger." So far so good. Then he held up an elephant. I meant to say elephant - truly I did - but for some inexplicable reason I said, "Onion."